Yep, I'm back to work! This six-week leave was as long as I've been away from work since I moved East in '89.
The new shoulder still hurts and I'm not clear that the medication is helping. I can play mandolin in 15-minute bursts but forget about guitar -- still can't get my arm around the body. Tried banjo first off of course and it wasn't working at all, but several weeks on maybe it's time to give it another go. No harm in trying! My wife will have to go back to locking herself in her office, but there's nothing to be done about that . . .
At the desk -- calls and emails from administrators, faculty, students. It's like I never left. It's good to know that when I die the university won't miss a beat!
THERE WILL COME SOFT RAINS
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
-- Sara Teasdale